


i don't want to be alone again

by kyochisas



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Angst and Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Kyouko, Pre-Despair, i guess, i just love them too much, this is more platonic than anything tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 16:44:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10139510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyochisas/pseuds/kyochisas
Summary: HAHA BITCH YOU THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF ME?? GUESS AGAIN!I love Kizajin and I always will I'm the King of this ship imo. I'm sorry for the lack of updates lately my motivation is kicking my ass.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAHA BITCH YOU THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF ME?? GUESS AGAIN!
> 
> I love Kizajin and I always will I'm the King of this ship imo. I'm sorry for the lack of updates lately my motivation is kicking my ass.

He woke up in a cold sweat with his heart in his mouth.

As he tried to slow down his breathing, the man looked to the digital clock on his bedside. The green light was clear in the darkness of his room; 2:30am exactly. With a weak, wispy groan, as if he had run miles on end, Jin laid back down again, running a hand through his hair as he did and staring at the ceiling.

He’d been having the same dreams since he’d… ran away. There was no other way to put it. He remembered the night well… it's wasn't like he could forget it. It was the subject of his dream, after all. Late at night, with a coat and scarf to keep him warm in the cold of the winter night, a briefcase in one hand, he made his way downstairs and towards the door… but not before glancing into the living room. The fire was still heated, and gentle snoring could be heard from the single chair with its back to the entrance. And Jin, despite knowing it would end the same as before, couldn't help but leave his suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and walk over as quietly as he could, looking at the peaceful face of his sleeping daughter as she laid in the arms of the man she basically called family, with his hat pulled over his face. And with a quiet chuckle, every damn time, he’d lean forward to kiss her on the forehead, only for her to turn to dust - for everything to turn to dust - in his fingertips, and slowly he’d drown in it and struggle and scream until he woke up, in the same state as the night before, or the night last week - panicked, faint-hearted. Afraid.

He needed a drink.

After getting dressed (he wasn't going back to sleep anyway) Jin walked out of his bedroom in the hall of his tiny apartment, trying not to make so much noise as to awaken the neighbours. As he reached the kitchen - an open plan one, with a small counter facing towards the almost bare living room - he flicked on the lights, and started to prepare himself a cup of coffee. With his breathing now going back to normal and his heart beating close to its normal rate in his chest cavity, he let out a quiet sigh, leaning slightly against the kitchen counter. He was so tired, so tired of the dreams and the lack of sleep and the tossing and turning. Maybe he’d made a mistake by running away. What was he going to achieve? Had he really made the right choice?

With a sharp inhale of breath to stop himself from growling at the thought of going back to the Kirigiri clan, Jin poured his coffee and quickly blew the steam away, turning to lean with his back against the counter. He took a moment of silence, breathing in the strong scent coming from the cup as if to remind him that the things he touched and felt and experienced were all real, before taking a long sip and feeling the warm liquid trickle down the back of his throat without so much as a flinch. He’d grown used to the early morning coffee trips over the past few years.

Once finished, he placed the cup on the side of the sink, wiping his mouth of any other loose remnants of coffee that had escaped without his detection. Despite the caffeine, he actually felt more tired… perhaps it was sheer fear that was keeping him awake at this point. But, he was always great at being stubborn and going against better judgement. That was the main reason he was even stood in the kitchen of his own apartment, after all. Jin yawned to himself, stretching his arms high above his head to stretch, with his shirt dragging up with the movement. He cracked an eye open, and in the moonlight that leaked from his windows (with curtains he forgot to close) he could make out that he’d managed to kill half an hour. It was now 3am. And that meant it was time for work. Or, whatever work he had left to do, which was small and mundane job applications and other miscellaneous tasks that really didn't mean too much. It was tedious, boring and almost soul draining, but he wasn't going to stop. He didn't have a choice. The man rubbed his eyes and stretched for a final time as he allowed his feet to shuffle (as if they were just as tired as he was) from the kitchen to the main hallway, heading to the small bedroom-

Knock, knock.

The knuckles that hit the door only twice echoed throughout the silence of the apartment, and almost through Jin’s very bones, and he spun around on the heel of his foot to look at the front door, only a few metres away, as if it was a deadly beast. Who, besides him, would be awake at this hour? ...Well, there was a few people he could think of, but what were the chances of them just showing up at his doorstep, out of nowhere? Swallowing any memories of his past that he didn't want to recollect, Jin slowly made his way over, feeling his way around in the dullness before he felt the cold wood of the doorframe. He wrapped his arm around the chain to take it off, taking a moment to peek through the eyehole. It was odd that he never got a call to ask if this visitor had permission to enter… but again, who would visit someone at this time of night? Jin sighed a little, noticing the visitor had his back to the door, and the moonlight had no help in giving away the stranger’s identity… giving him no choice but to the chain and unlock the door, with a moment's hesitation. He didn't look his best, to begin with, not to mention countless other reasons.  
“...Good evening?” His whisper still seemed strained from the screaming of his nightmare, which he winced at, rubbing his throat briefly before continuing. “Or should I say, good morn-”  
He paused. And blinked. And stared. As the stranger turned around and shot him a smile (and a wave of one hand, with the other resting in his pocket), Jin felt his blood run cold, and he couldn't control himself as he pulled the visitor into the hallway of his apartment and slammed the door shut.  
“What the hell are you doing here, Kizakura? How did you find me?”  
“I have my sources.” In a volume to match the others, he grinned, leaning against the doorframe in a manner all too contrasting to Jin’s tenseness. He seemed all too awake for a guy at 3am, but the fact he smelled so strongly of whiskey may have been a big clue as to why. “Aren't you happy to see me?”  
“No, I’m not.”  
“Ouch… and here I thought we were friends-”  
“We were.” How it hurt to say that, considering how close they used to be… but a lot had changed in those few years he’d been gone.  
Kizakura paused, and frowned slightly. “...So that’s it, then? You want me to leave?”  
“Preferably, yes.”  
He paused again, shaking his head as he leant against the door, blocking the door handle before Jin could grab it. Another smile formed, one that had always suited him so well. “Well, guess I just won't listen to you like I used to. It's just like old times, eh?”  
Jin stuttered slightly, his mind rushing to think of an answer that wasn't just frustrated shouting. He couldn't think of anything in time. His eyes narrowed and he growled slightly, shaking his head before pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He had almost forgotten how annoying Kizakura was at times. “...Fine. But do not get comfortable. I want you out by 4am.”  
The blonde raised his hands, almost in surrender, and nodded, before standing upright and heading for the main room, flicking on the light switch as he did. It was hard not to wince in the sudden lighting.

Once Jin had prepared more coffee, he joined his unexpected visitor on the sofa, placing the mugs down on the coffee table and smacking the other’s feet away (“What did I tell you about getting comfortable? You're getting dirt on the tabletop.”) before he himself leant back, sighing quietly. He shifted slightly as Kizakura moved over him to grab a coffee mug.  
“What’s up? Am I really that much of a bother?”  
“Of course.”  
He chuckled in response, taking a light sip of the coffee, his nose wrinkling slightly at the bitterness. “Well, glad to see I still haven't lost my touch.”  
Jin shook his head as he heard another laugh in response beside him, his hand moving to grab his own mug, taking a long sip without flinching. Was he that used to chugging the liquid now? He wouldn't be surprised. As he leant back further into the sofa he brought the mug away from his lips, looking into it to find that most of it’s contents no longer filled the space. Well, that was quick - though then again, that was to be expected of a drink like that. Maybe he was just desperate for a distraction.

The two sat in silence for most of the time, aside from gentle chatter and quips into one another’s egos that seemed so reminiscent of the times they spent together before this whole complicated mess caused by just a simple name and an inheritance of a job. The time was almost 4. Jin rose to his feet, intending to keep true to his word-  
But was quickly brought down to sit again, as Kizakura grabbed his wrist and pulled him down.  
Jin spun his head to look at him with a scowl, pulling his arm out of his grip and gently rubbing his wrist in mild disgust. “I told you, Kizakura-”  
“I know, Jin. I know you did.” The man refused to meet the other’s gaze, as the lighting from the dim bulb on the ceiling did nothing to ward away the shadow’s from his fedora. He gently placed his mug down on the coffee table, which had been empty for a while now.  
“Then keep your promise and go. Please.”  
“...”  
“You're making this more difficult than it has to be-”  
“I'm sorry, I just…” Kizakura shook his head. “I can't. Not again.”  
For a moment, Jin stared in silence, seeming to feel… uneasy. This aura of vulnerability that Kizakura was now giving off was one he did not like. He gritted his teeth, sighing through them. “...So you're going to disregard what I want, huh.”  
“Because it's not what I want. ...Look, I…” Finally, he looked up, catching his friend dead in the eye as he frowned (was it wobbling slightly?). “I’ve got no one else to turn to. I’ve been trying to find you for months now.”  
“...No one… else?” Jin felt his blood run cold at the very implication. “But Kyouko, she-”  
“Left with old Fuhito. Wanted to be a detective. Told me to never talk to her again. Doesn't want to remember her dad at all.”  
“...”  
“...I’m sorry, Jin, I tried-”  
“I know, I trust you would…”  
Kizakura watched as the other man slumped a little in his seat, hesitating for a moment before reaching out a hand and gently placing it on his leg, causing him to look up from staring at the floor with a distant look in his eyes. “...It’s gonna be fine, alright? You got through her death and came on top, and you can get through this.”  
That was a bittersweet reminder. The last thing Jin wanted was a reminder of his late wife… sometimes, he still missed her. “Yeah… sure. Still doesn't hurt any less to know Kyouko hates me that much.”  
“Eh, she's a brooding teenager. Let her have her moment of edginess.” He tried to chuckle, but seeing his joke fall so horribly flat - with a glare thrown in his direction to match - caused his weak grin to run and hide again. Kizakura coughed a little, finally moving his hand. “...Still, I don't think it's real hate. I think she's just… conflicted.”  
He shook his head in disbelief. Of course Kyouko would hate him, the father who had walked out of her without a good reason why. And barely after the loss of her mother… maybe he deserved it, just a little bit.  
“Hey, Jin?” Kizakura broke the silence with a curious tone, as he leant forward slightly where he sat, resting his weight on his legs through his elbows, letting his hands hang.   
Jin glanced up from thought, his face half-blank and half willing him to continue.  
“Could I… stay here?”  
“Oh god, for how long?”  
“You make it sound like my company’s a bad thing.” Kizakura chuckled, shrugging his shoulder as if he didn't care, but smiling as if he didn't disagree. “Can't say I blame you. It's only for tonight, promise.”  
He stared at Kizakura for a minute of so of silence, as if silently weighing out his sins, before shaking his head and giving up. “Fine. On the couch. Don't bother me.”  
“Wasn't planning on it. ...Thanks.”  
“For what? Letting you stay even when you have a perfectly fine house of your own?”  
“Yeah… it's too cold in there. Too lonely. Can't stand it.”  
Of course… without him or Kyouko there, Kizakura didn't have no one else to keep him well… maybe that's why the scent of whiskey and bad choices clung to him like it did. Jin hesitated to keep the slight scowl he wore on his face. “...Don't mention it. Now go to sleep. And be quiet, please. I have things to do.”  
“You're not sleeping?”  
Jin felt bile rise in the back of his throat, and gritted his teeth, trying not to feel like he was drowning in sand again. “...Nah. Not tired.”  
Kizakura frowned a little, but was quickly dismissed as Jin got to his feet again.  
As he turned to go back to his room (to work for hours, no doubt), he paused, and turned back. “...It was getting too quiet here too, honestly. So, uh… sorry.”  
“Ha… don't mention it, buddy.”  
Jin smiled a little, and in that moment, everything seemed to pause.

He was happy.


End file.
